Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen my soul, to the glad refrain, And in spite of old sorrow… and possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin again.

All green and fair the summer lies, Just budded from the bud of spring, With tender blue of wistful skies, And winds that softly sing.

Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.

True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object.

Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.

Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen my soul, to the glad refrain, And in spite of old sorrow… and possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin again.

Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!